


Wicked and Divine

by CastorGalaxy



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), F/M, M/M, Porn With Plot, Scene: The Bus Ride (Good Omens), Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), that bloody saunter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-11 10:16:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20544500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastorGalaxy/pseuds/CastorGalaxy
Summary: Takes place in episodes 4 and 5 of the show, including the bar scene and some of the bus stop and before the trials of Heaven and Hell.Crowley almost lost Aziraphale and may still. Said angel can't hold back any longer. Smut ensues.





	Wicked and Divine

It was too late.

Crowley knelt, surrounded in burning books, the flames totally ignored, screaming for Aziraphale. His glasses melted on his face as the sure realization hit. It was too late. He would never have the chance to tell the angel how much- how he really felt.

Even now, as he sauntered out of the bookshop, dropping his glasses to the pavement, Freddie Mercury singing his heart out, Crowley could not admit the truth to himself. So he decided to get drunk and watch the world burn. Very very drunk.

The drive to said alcohol was a blur. He barely remembered grabbing another pair of glasses from his glove box, numbness settling in. He definitely did not remember what he was ranting about as he drank 2 bottles of straight Scotch.

Suddenly, the pale outline takes shape in front of him like liquid and the shock of recognition seems to soothe the ache the demon had been trying so hard to avoid.

“Aziraphale,” never has Crowley said the name softer, almost a whimper, the relief overwhelming. He recovered quickly, ashamed at that ruddy tone he’d used. “Are you here?” Crowley asked, pushing up his glasses to get a better look at the angel.

“Good question. Not certain. Never done this before.” Aziraphale replied. “Can you hear me?”

Crowley let his glasses fall back. “Of course I can hear you.”

“Afraid I’ve rather made a mess of things.” The angel said, looking away. “Did you go to Alpha Centauri?”

Crowley shrugged, pain returning as he remembered that feeling of loss that had engulfed him as surely as the flames in the bookshop. “Nah, I changed my mind,” his words came out slurred, “Stuff happened.” Looking at Aziraphale right then was enough to almost bring him to tears. “I lost my best friend.”

Aziraphale looks taken aback. “I’m so sorry to hear it.” It’s his turn to recover-the world was ending after all. “Listen, back in my bookshop-“

Crowley doesn’t even hear the rest. How is he supposed to break this to him? The news is sure to break the angel’s heart. “Oh, look, your bookshop isn’t there anymore.” Crowley leans forward, resting his chin on his hand.

“Oh?” Aziraphale says, shock clear on his features.

Crowley can hear his pain, echoing his own that had started to fade. “I’m really sorry. It burned down.” Crowley said, his voice shaking a little with emotion. He had definitely had too much to drink.

Thunder rumbled in the not too far distance as Aziraphale took in the terrible news. “All of it?” he asked, hope bleeding in his tone.

Crowley really struggled with his words now. His angel looked so broken. Eventually he stammered out “Yeah. Wha-what was the book?”

“The one the young lady with the bicycle left behind. The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of-“

“Agnes Nutter! Yes! I took it!” Crowley exclaimed, holding the book up for Aziraphale to see. That is if he could see it.

“You have it?” Aziraphale asks, impressed by the amount of luck that was.

“Look, souvenir!”

“Look inside. I made notes. It’s all in there. The Boy’s name, address. Everything else. I worked it all out.”

Crowley looks at everything, not really wanting or ready to look away from Aziraphale. “Look, wherever you are, I’ll come to you. Where are you?” He was desperate now. He needed to see Aziraphale alive and ok as soon as possible.

The angel looks taken aback again, Crowley’s restraint has almost eroded completely. “I-I-I’m not really anywhere yet.” He eventually says. “I’ve been discorporated.”

“Oh.” Crowley says, dumbly.

“You need to get to Tadfield Air Base.”

“Why?”

“World ending. That’s where it’s all gonna happen.” Aziraphale says, a tight smile on his face. “Quite soon now. I’ll head there too. I-I just need to find a receptive body. Harder than you’d think”

Crowley’s eyebrows raise in shock, his mouth hanging open, his mind far too inebriated to think of anything other than how receptive a body he could be for his angel. “I’m not gonna go there.” He eventually says, softly, to himself.

“I do need a body.” Aziraphale says. “Pity I can’t inhabit yours.” A smile spreads on the angel’s face.

“Ooh.” Crowley croaks out. He had to know what his words were doing to the red-haired demon. That smile pretty much gave him away.

“Angel, demon. Probably explode.” He continues on.

Crowley doesn’t even understand the sound he makes in response. ‘_Better than moaning, I suppose,’ _he thought to himself.

“So, I’ll meet you at Tadfield. But we’re both gonna have to get a bit of a wiggle on.”

Crowley is barely paying attention, trying so desperately to _not_ think about the angel inhabiting his body in a very possible way that would definitely lead to them both exploding. “What?”

“Tadfield Air Base.”

“I heard that. It was the wiggle-on.” As soon as the words are out, Aziraphale is gone without a trace.

~

From there we all know the story of how an angel, a demon, a witch and her finder, and the Antichrist stop Armageddon in the name of love and human life.

Aziraphale and Crowley watch as the bus shows up to take them back to London.

“I suppose I should have them drop me off at the bookshop.”

Crowley turns and looks at Aziraphale, his face full of sadness, taking a moment before speaking. “It burned down.” He said gently. “Remember?”

Aziraphale looks at him for a moment and then away.

“You can stay at my place, if you like.” Crowley wishes he could comfort his friend, seeing that pain all over his face. And for a moment it vanishes. Aziraphale looks at Crowley full of hope and longing. It’s gone too soon, turning sour.

“I don’t think my side would like that.” He says dejectedly.

“You don’t have a side anymore. Neither of us do.” Crowley sighs the next words. “We’re on our own side. Like Agnes said, we are going to have to choose our faces wisely.”

Aziraphale’s face softens, looking away, but thinking of Crowley in a different light at those words. He knew what he wanted to choose-what he had chosen.

Crowley sees none of this, having turned away to hale down the bus.

They both get on and-surprisingly enough-Aziraphale sits down next to him. There’s hardly any space between them now on the narrow seats and Crowley suddenly feels trapped between the window and the angel. He thought he knew that smell-of musty old books, honeysuckle, cologne, and vanilla-but here enveloped in it, Crowley is intoxicated.

Without even thinking, Crowley grabbed the angel’s hand as he sat down, interlocking their fingers. Crowley is shocked at himself, but today had wrecked him emotionally and he needed to feel Aziraphale alive under his fingertips for reassurance. Aziraphale merely rests his head on the demon’s shoulder. Crowley is at a complete loss, looking down at Aziraphale in wonder, wishing he could say anything but he’s still holding his breath.

Aziraphale can feel how tense Crowley is and decides to tilt his head up. They have almost never been so physically close to one another. Their lips only centimeters apart, feeling each other’s breath on their faces. Crowley closes his eyes as Aziraphale moves his free hand up to take off Crowley’s glasses.

“Look at me,” the angel whispers and Crowley takes a breath before opening his eyes. “We’re free.” Aziraphale whispers the words against his lips this time, finally closing the distance between them.

Crowley always imagined this moment to be very soft. And the moment before was, but as soon as they kissed, Aziraphale crashed into him like a tidal wave, like he had been holding back a damn for too long and it had finally broken.

The glasses clattered to the floor as Aziraphale moved his hand to tangle in Crowley’s hair at the nape of his neck, moving his head, parting his lips, and slipping his tongue out and into Crowley’s mouth. Somehow he was kissing back, responding to each of the angel’s advances.

Aziraphale remembered where they were, and broke away, moving his hand to cup the demon’s cheek. “I love you,” he says, still whispering, “and whatever happens you have to know I’ve loved you forever and I-“

Crowley cuts him off with another kiss, uncaring of whoever else is on the bus right now, because the angel he loves-_his_ angel-loves him too. It’s not enough, but it’s everything. This kiss is how he pictured it. So soft and sweet and chaste.

“I love you too. I’m glad we chose each other time and time again.” He sighs, and they move together, already so comfortable. Crowley has an arm around Aziraphale, who’s now resting his head on his chest, their hands still intertwined and resting on Crowley’s lap. Aziraphale wraps his arm around Crowley’s waist. Once they settle, breathing in each other, time seems to be nothing at all and too soon they’re in London.

Hardly seemed fair that after having millennia of hiding their feelings, that once they’re allowed to express them, there’s only a few hours left.

They disentangle themselves and Crowley grabs his glasses from off the floor, putting them back on as they exit the bus (Aziraphale leaving more than enough fare for the confused driver.)

Aziraphale is truly fucking struggling. As Crowley had felt, a damn had indeed been broken, and he could hardly contain himself. He needed to touch Crowley everywhere and now. Needed to kiss every inch of his skin, losing himself in the taste of him. He takes a deep shuddering breath as he follows Crowley into the night towards his flat.

Crowley is clueless to the amount of restraint being demonstrated by the angel, focused on getting them to his place so they could talk maybe about what just happened. He did not expect Aziraphale to suddenly grab him by his hips, flip and throw him against the wall as soon as the door closes behind them.

“That bloody _saunter_ of yours,” Aziraphale seethes, moving to kiss and bite down Crowley’s neck, eliciting a hiss and moan from the demon.

“S’just how I walk, angel.” Crowley says, breathlessly (although he does not actually need to breathe.)

This only makes Aziraphale growl, and Crowley can’t express how much that sound turns him on.

The blond is definitely losing himself, letting himself finally indulge in what he truly desires. “Crowley,” he moans his name before letting his hands roam all over him. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against the juncture of his neck and shoulder before biting down and sucking, wanting to leave a mark. Let Heaven, Hell, and Earth know that he was his. Once satisfied, Aziraphale sighs a single word. “Mine.”

Crowley shudders, a choked sound getting stuck in his chest. It’s all too much. This can’t be real. At this point he’s fairly certain this has all been a dream and he’s passed out drunk at the bar and the world is on fire. Or maybe he’s dead. That makes much more sense than the angel praising and claiming him simultaneously, too far gone to get past the entryway of his flat before devouring him.

Aziraphale is astonished at himself. He never imagined this going like it was, but he could not stop. He had to touch him everywhere, _now_, because who knew what would happen tomorrow? He had to memorize each sigh and whimper, every inch of skin with his hands and mouth. He grabbed Crowley by the hips again, pressing his thumbs into the dips on either side, then letting his hands move to grab his arse, still biting and sucking on his neck.

“Az-iraphale!” Crowley almost shouts, but he isn’t listening. It’s his turn to growl, grabbing him by his blond hair, forcing him off. The angels looks wounded, but Crowley doesn’t let that look last longer than a second, crashing their lips together again. He breaks away after a moment to say, “Can we at least actually get inside before w-we-“ The words fall flat. “What exactly are we doing?”

Aziraphale lets out a long breath before walking away from Crowley. He knows that his control is already almost completely gone, so he doesn’t wait to see if the other is following. He had only been here a handful of times before, but he knows where the bedroom is. He walks inside the room, turns, and waits.

Crowley is at a complete loss, slowly sauntering after Aziraphale, eyes barely open, heart hammering out of his chest. Everything still felt surreal. When he turns the corner, he grabs the doorframe for support, bracing himself. He’s afraid. Afraid of what it all means. Afraid of losing his best friend. He doesn’t deserve getting what he wants. Doesn’t deserve this angel, glowing in the moonlight that streamed through the windows.

He drops his head, eyes closed now. “Angel,” he whispers, trying to tell him all of that, but Aziraphale doesn’t give him the chance. Closing the distance between them he takes off Crowley’s glasses again, this time setting them on the dresser.

Despite the lust that has threatened to consume his whole being, Aziraphale knew he had to be tender now. “Crowley,” he says his name as though his lips dripped with honey, “I _adore _you. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” Aziraphale tilts the demon’s chin up so they can look into each other’s eyes, both sets of pupils blown, leaving only halos of silver and gold in their wake. He sighs his next words, “Ooohhh, but I know you want this. We both have for far too long.”

Crowley swallows and Aziraphale watches the bob of his throat. “I thought I was supposed to be the tempter?”

Aziraphale smiles and it lights up his whole face. “Learned from the best.” He says with a wink.

“Who are you and what have you done with Aziraphale?”

This time he laughs, the sound echoing and it breaks the tension for a moment. “Darling, I’m not afraid anymore. That’s all that’s changed about me.” The angel wraps his arms around the demon’s neck, pressing their foreheads together. “I’ve been holding back, afraid of what everyone else would think or do. But now, I’m ready. To face Heaven and Hell to be with you, in the world we just helped save.”

Crowley attempts a smile, but the words are so sweet. Too sweet. He can’t seem to shake off his own terror. But he wants to. So, he sighs and puts everything he can’t say into a kiss, letting go of the doorframe and wrapping his arms around Aziraphale’s waist. He does want this, but he’s so afraid it could all end in a moment. That fear had been his constant companion for millennia, keeping him from crossing the line that apparently didn’t exist anymore.

Letting go was like waking up. Suddenly a fire burns inside his stomach, aching to be closer. Aziraphale has that same fire and when their tongues tangle and dance, the flames meld together making an inferno of desire. Crowley moves his hands up, pushing the jacket off of Aziraphale. There’s too many layers in between them. With a snap they’re gone, suddenly naked and flush against each other.

Aziraphale moans, “Can’t wait any longer. Not enough time.” That brief reference to what the day may bring almost snaps Crowley out of it, but then Aziraphale moves his hands down his body, savoring every new inch of skin to touch, taking special care to trace the giant snake tattoo that spirals down Crowley’s side from shoulder to hip bone. When his hands finally reach in between Crowley’s thighs, he moans again, dipping his fingers into the already wet folds of Crowley’s cunt.

Crowley gasps, hips bucking. “Angel,” he moans as Aziraphale starts kissing and sucking a trail of marks down his neck and chest, dropping to his knees. Their eyes meet and Crowley lets out a soft “Oooh,” because he’s seen that look in his eyes so many times. When he’s about to eat the most exquisite meal.

A low groan leaves Aziraphale as he presses forwards, breathing in deeply before pressing forward to lick a long stripe up the slit, eyes rolling back at that first taste. Crowley moans again, reaching out, but meets open air as the angel is back on his feet. Crowley is about to protest when white wings appear. The fire in Aziraphale’s eyes glows brighter than ever as he grabs the demon by the hips and tosses him to the bed with no effort. How had he not known he was so strong?

Black wings unfold behind him before falling into the mattress.

Aziraphale is on him in an instant, kissing down his body all over again, trying to memorize every touch that makes the demon moan or squirm, sigh or gasp. Wings encircle them like a canopy.

Crowley feels tear prickle as Aziraphale finally licks him again, fingers grasping tightly at the blonde curls. They both moan in unison. The angel cannot contain himself any further, plunging his tongue inside Crowley as deeply as he can, almost orgasming from the taste of him. He’s perfect. Sweet and tangy and absolutely falling apart as he goes for his clit, which begs for attention.

“Delicious,” he sighs, looking up at Crowley before beginning a rhythm, licking up and down swirling his tongue around the clit before repeating. Watching his demon come undone was divine. Crowley tried to keep eye contact, but the pleasure caused him to writhe, throwing his head back, practically grinding against the angel’s perfect mouth. Soft sighs turned to deep moans as Aziraphale teased and then entered him with his index finger, seamlessly working him with his mouth still. When he sucked on his clit, Crowley’s back arched, fingers tightening in his hair. He added another finger and curled and scissored them inside him, stretching him out, getting him ready for-

“More,” Crowley moans, rocking his hips into him, feeling desperate, voice low with lust. Although Aziraphale felt that himself, he was definitely not done devouring the demon, so instead he added another finger, started flicking the tip of his tongue on Crowley’s clit, gradually gaining speed. “Yessssss,” Crowley hissed and then moaned loudly as Aziraphale curled his fingers just right. It had become apparent the angel knew what he was doing and that would be a conversation for later.

Aziraphale fucked him in earnest now, desperate to see Crowley come for him, fingers plunging in and out, curling and twisting, gaining speed with his tongue. Crowley’s legs began to shudder, a long string of curses falling from his lips, skin flushed from the chest up. He shoved the angel’s face against his crotch as he came spectacularly on his face. “Aziraphale,” he said with a high pitch moan, vision going white.

The angel withdrew his fingers but kept licking, plunging his tongue inside him, desperate for the taste. Crowley dragged his up by his hair, eliciting a gasp. He crashed their lips together, tasting himself on his lips.

It’s Crowley’s turn to flip their bodies, straddling Aziraphale, arse rubbing against his very hard and leaking cock. “Enjoy yourself?” he asks, breaking the kiss to sit up and take in his body. _So soft, _he thinks, running his long fingers down the angel’s chest.

“Can’t you tell?” he replies, bucking his hips just a little, the friction not enough, but patience is a virtue.

Crowley smiles and Aziraphale feels a strong wave of love crash over him again. He sits up, grabbing the back of Crowley’s neck and pulling him into another kiss. Somehow it is balanced between soft and sweet and hot and desperate. The demon lifts his hips, reaching between them to grasp the angel’s cock and then slowly sinking downward, both moaning in unison in the kiss, finally joined like this.

Hands are everywhere. Crowley’s move from cupping the angel’s face to wrapping around his neck and tangling fingers in his hair. Aziraphale’s start on his back, right below his wings, but find their way back to those damn hips, holding so tightly he’s sure to leave bruises.

Using them as leverage, pulling down, he moves his own hips, inside him as deep as he can, Crowley’s arse on his thighs. The demon breaks the kiss, head falling back, mouth a perfect “o”, a groan ripping free from his chest. In the next moment, he growls, pulling blond hair-using _him_ as leverage to ride him.

They find their own rhythm, moving together, getting lost in each other, not sure where angel becomes demon, whose moan is whose. They are one, searching for the same climax. Their wings close around them again, so they can see nothing but each other.

Aziraphale purposefully rolls his hips searching for that spot- “Oooooh,” Crowley practically sobs, “Right there,” he sighs, rotating his own hips so smoothly as if they are boneless.

Crowley reaches in between them, feeling where Aziraphale continues to fuck into him, groaning before touching his throbbing clit. Pleasure building between them no longer like a fire but like the birth of a new star-a new universe.

“_Crowleyyy,_” Aziraphale moans, and as soon as the demon feels him swell up inside him, rubbing that spot just perfectly, they come simultaneously and it’s like the Earth shakes. They have melded so beautifully together, the lines between them and reality completely fall away. They become everything and nothing, each other and no one, just the pure light and darkness that makes up everything. As if their orgasm had been one moment of love and pleasure, wicked and divine.

Crowley collapses on top of Aziraphale and is encompassed by their wings and his soft arms, holding him close, kissing his fiery red hair. The angel softens inside him but they stay like that for a very long time, until the sun’s first rays shine through the windows.

With a sigh, Crowley speaks first. “I guess we should figure out how to thwart Heaven and Hell now.”

“Actually,” Aziraphale says, mischief in his tone, “I have an idea.”


End file.
